Blinding
by thatonerandompersonstalkingyou
Summary: She lost a lot when the Europeans invaded. She was torn up the most over her dear little brothers. A Native America story.


Dark eyes gazed over the small village being built near the shore, just a little ways away from where she was watching. She studied the various men, venturing into the forest and returning with meat and plants to turn into food, and women, who were sewing, cooking, and tending to children. They all seemed to be the size of ants from where she watched, scurrying around in an anxious manner, struggling to survive. However these light skinned people worked fast. Just five days ago they had docked their worn down vessels on the beach, many of them barely walking off their transportation, dying or dead at the hands of the sea. Now they had gotten rid of the dead and were building what seemed to be a permanent residence. Her eyebrows furrowed. She wasn't sure what to think of these people. On one hand, she had always wanted to meet people not of her home land and learn from them. Besides, she had always prided herself on her hospitality towards others, and maybe they were the same way. On the other, they all had taken to calling her people 'savages', which, from what she could tell, was an insult. Though, the Algonquins didn't give the warmest welcome, so they probably got the wrong impression. Still, maybe they just wanted land to live off of and not be bothered. Or perhaps they would later want more land, and hurt her people to get it.

She shook her head, her raven hair swaying with it. No. She wouldn't be so quick to judge. She couldn't be sure what they're intentions were. And even if they were going to hurt her, showing them kindness and generosity could change their minds.

A small, high pitched whine calling her name caught her attention. She wrapped her arms around the rough trunk of the tree she was sitting in, and swung herself off the branch where she had been perched. She loosed her grip on the tree a little, allowing herself to slide down the trunk at a safe and steady pace. There was the sound of twigs snapping under her feet as she landed, along with the faint whine from before. She released the tree from her grip and turned around to see the blue eyed, blonde baby boy she cared for. His whining stopped and he smiled, his already bright eyes lighting up. She wrapped her arms around him and lifts him off the ground. His small, pudgy arms circled around her slender neck as she began walking back to their home.

She followed a small dirt trail for a while, and then went off into the darker parts of the forest. This was where no pale people came. They spoke in hushed voices when it was brought up, and no one of them dared go near it. If they had ventured in to it for a while, they would have stumbled upon a small, beautiful, life filled clearing with a small well-crafted wattle house made from wood and clay in the center, bathing in sunlight. The dark eyed woman walked up to her home and pushed the door open. She walked on the balls of her feet over to her brother's cot, trying not to wake the now sleeping blonde. She set him down into his blanket filled cot, and smiled as he snuggled himself deep into the small dent he'd spent some years creating. In the cot next to him, his twin brother was already asleep; his small hands gripped his blanket firmly, but his small, pale-blonde hair covered face remained peaceful and undisturbed looking.

The dark eyed woman sat down near the cots and waited. Of her baby brothers, the blue eyed Kitchi was usually restless. As expected, after the sun went down and the moon rose, small whimpers were heard from the cot. She leaned over him and kissed his forehead, hoping to calm him as this had done the job before. Still he continued to whimper until his both mother and sister figure began to hum a lullaby. As she went on, his cries became few, and by the end he was sound asleep. She sighed, relieved that now maybe _she_ could get some sleep. She turned from her baby brothers' cot to her own and lay down, arms folded behind her head, hair spread among the fabric.

She found herself thinking of Kitchi and Una and the similarities they had with the settlers. Their pale skin, hair, and eye color. Even though she still had yet to see violet eyes like Una's, he could easily blend in and live with them with his brother. Could they be lost children of that village? She quickly dismissed this thought; they had been with her for years and had not changed since the day she found them. They had been wandering around a creek, dancing around in the same white dress-like outfits they still wore today. She had taken them to the nearest village, and discovered how they were. So she had started raising them, naming the blue eyed one Kitchi and the violet eyed one Una. In returned they named her. They had been with her for short amount of time, a few years at best, but unlike other children, they never grew. They were like her, not the average human, but not an almighty, invincible, emotionless god. They were somewhere in between the two, perhaps the meeting point.

Were they supposed to… replace her? Panic filled her. She had heard of it happening before in the south, to her other brothers and sisters. Could they be a sign of her demise? No. No, no, no, no. She had also heard of siblings sharing existence and power. Besides, she had existed since the beginning, she couldn't fade so easily. The shared powers were far more likely than her people and culture being destroyed to make room for her babies to take over… Still a sense of dread hung over her.

Then she made a decision. Even if she had to step down to them, she would still love and protect them. They meant so much to her, she won't let them be hurt. She would always love them. No matter what.

Prickly leaves poked her face as she peered through the bush, but she didn't swat them away or get distracted what she was staring so intently at. She was focused on the strangers talking to her brother. They spoke in language she didn't understand to her brother, but his face showed vague recognition of the words they spoke. After hearing them speak more she realized this was the language the pale villagers spoke. Both looked similar to her brothers, same pale skin, and hair color. However they gave off distinctly different personalities.

One had longer hair than the other, with blue eyes like Kitchi. He seemed very relaxed from his smiling face and care-free posture. But there was something off. His smiling face turned slightly to greed when he looked at her brother or the man next to him. He was putting up a pretty good act to hide it though. The other man was about the same height, if not a little shorter than the first. His wheat yellow hair was choppy and messy looking, his bangs hung over his thick eyebrows, which were set to show aggravation. He glared at his companion, dislike and annoyance evident in his dark green eyes. His posture was much more stiff, ridged, and reformed. His face, like his companion's, held greed as well need whenever he looked at the small boy. For some reason they seemed familiar. Not like she had met them, more like when they remind you of someone because they have a similar quality. It bothered her for a moment. Then her attention turned to her baby brother. His eyes were bright with joy and curiosity. He struggled to keep his weight on the pads of his feet, trying to reach the height of the older men talking to him.

The dark eyed woman fought against the urge to run out there, scoop up Kitchi in her arms, find Una, and run back home. She could see the way they were competing for her brother's attention and attempting to impress, trying to sway him to their side. She'd heard of this happening, strangers taking children from their families. They were fighting over who got him. Multiple times they stopped talking to Kitchi altogether and began to argue with each other.

The urge finally won out. She brought her fingers to her lips and whistled in a way similar to a local species of bird. Kitchi's head turned in her direction. That was the call all three of them used to let each other know to come and help, or it's time to go home. With the two men still bickering, he waddled over to the edge of the clearing to the bush his sister was kneeling in. He looked very confused as to why his had called him over and even more confused when she grabbed him and started running in the direction home was in. The dark eyed woman ran as fast as she could, narrowly missing various trees, bushes, and wildlife. She knew this land like nothing else; she wouldn't crash into anything. All that mattered was keeping her brothers safe. They can live on her land and use her resources, but they cannot try anything with Kitchi and Una.

Her pace slowed as she neared home. By the time she entered, her body was sore and she was sweating from the running and worry. Una, who had been drawing in a patch of dirt with a stick, ran over to his brother and sister. The woman put her blue eyed brother down next to his brother. Both looked up at her, confused mostly, but also concerned. Kitchi didn't understand why he had to come home. He didn't understand why she had taken him from his new friends. She knelt down and hugged her brothers, holding them close to her chest in a protective manner, grateful they were okay. Kitchi asked why he had to leave his new friends. She said that she didn't want the men to hurt him or his brother. His bright eyes filled with tears, and he started to bawl. Una looked very confused; he had no idea what they talking about.

The dark eyed woman rubbed Kitchi's back and kissed his forehead, hoping his would calm her baby brother. She truly hated seeing either of them upset, but this was for their own safety. She couldn't allow them to be taken away. She loved them, and had no idea what those men could want Kitchi for. She had to protect what she loved.

She sighed. Maybe she was being too harsh. She needed to… try to talk things out with them. Set some guidelines. Learn more of their intentions. Get to know them.

Fire. It felt as though someone had set fire to her, and it was slowly spreading through her side. Tears blurred her already horrible vision as she stumbled through the forest. The sun had set, and now all of the dark colors of the woods at night mixed like watered down paints until she couldn't make out any definite shapes or what anything was. She could still feel the intense heat and light from the fire on her back, the smoke filling her lungs, making her choke and gag. She could feel new, deep cuts, and bruises form on her ribs, overlapping and intersecting each other. Large amounts of blood were seeping out of her wounds, staining her buckskin dress, and her hands, which were pressed against her side, trying to halt the blood flow. Despite her efforts, the blood was still escaping her body, making her head spin and her limbs heavy. She felt herself fall to the ground, grass cushioning her fall. She let her eyelids droop.

How could this happen? How could they? Salty tears stung in her eyes, and she let out a sob. Then another. And another. Moments later the proud incarnation of the North American lands was reduced to a quivering, crying mess. Not for her own pain, but for what caused it. So many bodies…

Click.

She froze. Her eyes snapped open, and for a moment her heart stopped beating. The sound of twigs snapping and light footsteps alerted her to someone approaching her from the front. Keeping her cheek pressed against the ground, her eyes looked in front of her, trying to locate the source of the sounds. In the dark she could make out a pair of black buckled boots, splattered in red by the faint orange light, just a few paces in front of her. She tilted her head toward the boots, giving her the chance to look higher. Black trousers, red coat, gun in hand. She didn't even need to look any higher to know who it was. It would only make things worse. But she looked anyways. The British man came closer, his weapon ready to fire at any moment. He looked very different at this angle. When ever she had seen him, she had been at a higher point, so he had looked pretty small and not very intimidating. Whenever he argued or was angry with his French acquaintance, it was amusing. He flailed his arms and shouted insults in a very entertaining fashion. Seeing him angry was much less funny when he held you at gunpoint.

His jade eyes stared down into her pitch black ones. The fallen woman hoped for two contradicting things. To some degree, she hoped she looked pitiful. Enough so that he felt guilty about his actions and spared her and her people. The rest of her hoped he only realized his mistake after he shot her, and that he'd spend the rest of his life with his guilt eating him alive.

Neither of them did anything for awhile. Every sound was muted, every movement halted, all feelings were numbed. They simply stared at each other until something broke the silence. A small voice that cried their names came from far behind the soldier. Behind him there was the sound of small footsteps quickly making their way to the two. A small blonde boy of about nine years wearing dirty trousers and a blue button up shirt came up behind the British man. The woman's throat seized up and new tears formed in her eyes. The man's green eyes widened and he turned to the boy, kneeling down to speak to him. He spoke to the boy in English, sounding very angry when asking what he was doing there. The boy looked ashamed, staring at his dirty shoeless feet. He glanced over at his forgotten older sister curiously, muttered an apology, and looked away. He had a look of unfamiliarity, like she was someone new whom he didn't know. This brought on even more tears. Her baby, her baby brother…

The soldier glared over at her, then roughly grabbed the boy's arm, and began leading him away. The dark eyed woman lay on the ground, confused as to why he hadn't shot her, and heartbroken that her stolen brother didn't seem to know her. As Kitchi was pulled away, he looked back at the sister he know barely recognized, trying to remember who she was, and why he cared that she had been crying.

Fading was a strange sensation. It the beginning, it was pain. She had felt a pain like no other, starting in small areas, then spreading to other places. After pain it was misery. How could this happen? Why would this happen? What did she and her people do to deserve the horrors they had dealt with? So many were dead, murdered by weapons or disease. Then there was remorse. She felt she should have done something. She should have fended off the Europeans the moment they stepped foot on her land. That's what any other representative would have done. If she had done that her people wouldn't be nearing extinction. Her culture and beliefs wouldn't be forgotten. Those men wouldn't have had the chance to meet her baby brothers, let alone take them away. She had only recently discovered that they to were born representatives to their homelands, France and England, like she and her brothers were. She also learned many others did this to, finding and taking in younger ones to be underlings. This was understandable, since new representatives have parents to nurse them through childhood. But Kitchi and Una had her as a caretaker, so she didn't know why France and England wanted her babies.

Despite the two being separated from their sister, she still watched over them when she could, sneaking to their rooms and kissing them good night, hoping to some how stay apart of their lives. She saw her brothers being renamed, and got sick feeling in her stomach. It was just another reminder that they weren't hers anymore.

She saw Kitchi's annoyance turned anger as his people were taxed heavily and set to follow strict laws. She watched as her brother dressed like her and poured tea into a harbor. She had gazed curiously from a bush as England refused to shoot her brother and fell to the muddy ground. Only then did she have appreciation for the British man. He did love Kitchi, perhaps as much as she did. If she gave England and France credit for anything, it was that they did truly love her baby brothers and were heartbroken when they left.

Over the decades they had grown larger and more powerful. Kitchi was just as childish and innocent as he'd been before, some how becoming the most powerful man in the world. Una, despite the meaning of his name, was forgotten many times, invoking sadness in his sister. She knew the loneliness of being forgotten by loved ones. She saw their hardships, dealing with such a cut throat world, the hate, war, and sat next to them on the sofa in Una's house, crying along with the both of them, wanting to join their sibling embrace and tell them it would all be okay, like she used to. But she knew she couldn't. She stood tall and proud when ever one of them announced an idea, even if she knew it wouldn't work, she didn't care. They changed from such adorable children into wonderful young men. Even if they might not remember her, she was still so proud of her baby brothers. So proud.

**Author's Note.**

**I'm… not satisfied with this, but it'll do. Maybe I'll redo it later.**

**I do think that Native America would have to exist, since I see America and Canada having come into existence only when European countries came in, mostly because Native Americans weren't straight up Caucasian and blonde. At least I don't think, you'll have to correct me on that. **

**And I did have a human name in store for her, but decided not to use it. Weird artistic choice. **

**Algonquins- a native tribe that fought European settlers on the east coast**

**Kitchi- Brave**

**Una- Remember (Oh the irony) **

**I hope you liked it and if you didn't, sorry.**


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